Love, Hate, Math and Mystery
by TwistedAsTheDickens
Summary: When Clarice awakes from the trance Hannibal put her in, she finds out several disturbing facts that lead her to question everything she's known and commit a disturbing bluff. But the question is: Can she make everything right, without hurting herself?


Canon w/ the book. Clarice wakes up one day from the drug induced haze she's been under for five years. Is she still the same Clarice? Has the things Hannibal done to her changer her? Or is she still the same fiesty W. Virginian we know and love?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. ANYTHING YOU RECOGNIZE BELONGS TO THE BRILLIANT THOMAS HARRIS.

Please review!

* * *

_Flashing lights, everything was fuzzy, Paul Krendler was eating his own brain (if you could call it that)._

_Hannibal slipped a needle into her arm and she became relaxed as she remembered D below middle C._

_They fled to an airport, and then to Buenos Aires._

_Hannibal told her about seeing Barney at the opera. They knew he would never tell but they left Buenos Aires anyways and fled for Ireland, where Hannibal had recently come upon a considerable house on considerable land._

_They saw Ardelia here. She was on holiday. She was lucky to be left alone. Hannibal and Clarice fled quicker this time, to Italy._

_Doctors, celebration and pain._

"Gwendolyn, no!" a man yelled, his voice familiar.

D below middle C.

Clarice awoke, her head hurt as though she had a hangover and she did not recognize her surroundings although she did admit they were beautiful. She sat up to find she was in a four-poster king sized bed and the curtains were drawn. Her hand went to her hip before she could remember that her holster and gun were long gone.

She got out the of bed, casting aside the curtains furiously as her heart raced maddeningly; she stormed around the room, curious for the location of a mirror, upon finding one she saw she was in silk pajamas but could not remember dressing herself. Her hair was no longer dark but honey golden. She lifted her arm up to touch her hair, see if it was real when she felt a shooting pain in her elbow. She rolled up the sleeves of her pajama top to reveal small puncture wounds.

"Buona mattina, spero che abbiate dormito bene." Clarice had never taken an Italian course in her life but she responded to Hannibal saying, "Good morning, I hope you slept well." In perfect Italian.

"Ho dormito molto bene, grazie." It all sounded English to her as she said "I slept very well, thank you." She decided right then that she would not arouse suspicion from Hannibal that she had heard the note and awoken from her hypnotic state.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly eleven," he responded, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Why do you look at me so? Have I done something?" She knew he was gifted but she hoped to God he could not sense the vibrations of her widly beating heart.

"Your sleeves are rolled up," he pointed out.

_Don't panic,_ she told herself. "Yes, my arms were itching." She scratched her arms.

"Put some lotion on them, scratching will leave marks," he ordered calmly. "Gwendolyn is waiting for you in the nursery, I'll escort you." He held out his arm and she took it without trepadation for fear of being found out. Besides, she was curious as to whom this 'Gwendolyn' was.

He led her down corridor after corridor, each was draped in a different tapestry or lined with portraits. She tried to remember which was which so she could find her way out again, without assistance.

Clarice didn't know what it was but he seemed to be satisfied with her rouse and once at the nursery called Gwendolyn. The rambunctious ankle-biter came bouncing up to him and he picked her up with skill and agility. "Hi Daddy," she greeted him ethusiastically and Clarice hope that this girl was adopted, for her own sake.

"Hello Darling, I'm going to leave you with your Mommy for a while, while I cook brunch." He handed the girl over to Clarice.

"Hi Mommy!" The girl planted a kiss on her cheek, she too spoke in Italian.

_Play it cool,_ "Hello Dear, how are you today?"

"I'm great!"

"She may be great but she's not allowed to play with her special toys," Hannibal cut in.

"But Daddy!"

"No buts! If you wanted to play with them so badly then you wouldn't have broken the rules and played with Daddy's things!" he argued before leaving towards what Clarice assumed was the kitchen.

Clarice breathed a sigh of relief and then panic overtook her. She had a daughter, from what it looked like a four year old daughter. She wished that she wasn't hers but she couldn't deny it. Gwendolyn looked exactly like Clarice with the exception of Hannibal's eyes. And the extra finger on the left hand.

Now Clarice had to think fast. She needed to find a way to do two things: one, get information on where she was, when it was and what was going on; two, she needed to find a way to keep from throwing up as memories of Gwendolyn's conception resurfaced.

An idea came to her. "So Gwedolyn what do you want to do?" She looked around the room. "Do you want to play with your blocks?"

"Yes!" the happy girl exclaimed, then her face grew somber, "But Daddy said I'm not allowed to play with those." She pouted.

Clarice smiled. "Well then we just won't tell him, will we?" She winked at her daughter and she smiled big and mischeviously back as Clarice got the blocks down from the shelf and was glad to see they had letters on them. She set the blocks in front of Gwendolyn and suggested, "Why don't you spell out some words for me, hm?"

"What words should I spell?"

_Hannibal hasn't said my name, how do I know we haven't changed names? _"Why don't you spell out Mommy and Daddy's names?"

"Alright!" She spelled out 'Clarice' and then 'Hannibal'. "But Daddy says when we're in public to never mention these names, they're house names he says, so should I spell out the other names too?"

"Yes," Clarice answered immediately.

She spelled out 'Isela' and 'Marco'.

"And the date," she further suggested.

'Wednesday the fourth of April'.

Footsteps. "Hurry lets put these away, I think I here Daddy." She replaced the blocks in their box and set it back on the shelf. "Quick, like we were playing tea party." Their invisible teacups flew to their lips.

"More tea, mother?" Gwendolyn attempted a British accent.

"Why thank you darling."

"What's going on here?" Hannibal asked as he entered the room.

"Just playing tea party, dear," Clarice answered, hoping it was normal for her to say things like that. "Anticipating breakfast."

"Well I came here to tell you it's ready." He held out his arm to once again escort her.

She took his arm and Gwendolyn tugged on her pantleg and held up her arms to be picked up. Clarice complied and held her with one arm on her hip while Hannibal held onto the the other. "Don't strain yourself, dear."

_Why would he say that? The Hannibal I remember wouldn't tell me not strain myself._

At the breakfast table Clarice became confused as she reached for the wine Hannibal had out, assuming that he would be expecting her to drink it, and was stopped as Gwen suggested milk. She drank the milk gladly. It would help her stay more alert to whatever Hannibal was up to.

"Clarice are you alright with having salmon served at the party next week? It's not my favorite dish but prepared correctly it can be quite lovely."

_What party?_ "Of course," she complied.

* * *

That night while Hannibal was in his study, Clarice went upstairs to spend more time with her daughter. And get more answers from her. 

"Hello Darling," she greeted her daughter as she entered the nursery.

"Hi Mommy," she responded with less energy than she'd had in the morning.

"What would you like to do?"

"Let's go finish putting up the decorations in Barney's room!" Her energy suddenly returned.

"Who's Barney?" Clarice knew a Barney, but it couldn't possibly be THAT Barney.

"Don't you remember Mommy? Daddy says Barney is just his nickname, he says he had a friend who's never betrayed him and he wanted to honor him. But he says that his actual name is going to be Brant," the child explained, touching her mother's stomach.

"Of course." Clarice smacked her head. "How could I have forgotten?" Gwendolyn giggled at her mother, not noticing how Clarice's voice quivered.

"I don't know." She shrugged.

"Look, Gwen, I'm not feeling very well, I'll help you decorate Barney's room tomorrow, alright?" Gwen looked so disappointed. "I'm sorry sweetie, but I promise, tomorrow." Gwen shrugged and gave a weak smile. "Give us a hug?" Gwen nodded and embraced her mother, and her mother embraced her so tightly Gwen thought she would perish.

"I love you so much, Gwendolyn," she whispered in her daughter's ear. "Don't forget that, no matter what anyone tells you." She was beginning to cry softly.

"I love you too, Mommy." Gwen tried to wrap her arms tighter around her mother.

"Good." She let go and took her over to her bed and tucked her in. "Goodnight, don't let the bed bugs bite." She kissed her on the cheek.

Clarice began to walk towards the door when a little girl said, "Mommy."

"Yes?"

"Can we decorate his room day after tomorrow?"

"Sure. But why?"

"Tomorrow Daddy's taking us to the park," she answered.

"Right. Of course we can, dear. I'm looking forward to it." She walked out of the room and practically ran back to her room and into the bathroom where she threw up. She hadn't been lying to Gwen about not feeling good, or about anything else for that mater. But this wasn't morning sickness. She could hardly believe she already had a child, nonetheless with Hannibal Lecter. Hannibal the fucking cannibal Lecter! And she was pregnant again! She pounded her fists against a wall and began to cry.

_How could this happen?_

**_He hypnotized and drugged you, that's how,_** her conscious answered.

_But why would he stop?_

**_Because you're pregnant!_**

_But that didn't stop him before, when I was pregnant with Gwendolyn. _

**_Maybe it did stop him. Think, Clarice, what happened that caused you to comply with him in the first place?_**

_He drugged me._

**_But you were still resistant._**

She thought for a moment. _He hypnotized me._

**_And how did he do that?_**

Again, she thought for a moment before she remembered it. _That note, D below middle C. I heard it this morning right after Hannibal yelled at Gwendolyn not to..._

Suddenly she loved Gwendolyn more than life itself. So Hannibal had only stopped drugging her the last time, that's why the puncture wounds on her elbows looked old; once he learned that having her hypnotized was enough he decided that it was safe to stop drugging her while she was pregnant. But now that she had heard that note and awoken...

_I've got to get out of here. And I've got to take Gwen with me. _

She then formulated a rude plan, she would escape at the party Hannibal had mentioned earlier. There would no doubt be so many people to entertain Hannibal's tastes he wouldn't notice if she slipped off to the bathroom. Once out of his sight she would find Gwendolyn and take her into the bathroom with her, assuming the party was at their house they would be able to get out of the bathroom through the window, from then on they would play it by ear.

* * *

Once she stopped crying she went to bed, grateful that Hannibal wasn't there while she changed. She got into bed and tried to fall asleep but couldn't before Hannibal got in beside her. She feigned sleep and rolled on her stomach when she felt Hannibal brush hair out her face. She swore his touch burned.

* * *

The next morning she found herself being woken up by Hannibal, he told her to get dressed, they would be going to the park in an hour and a half. 

When they reached the park Clarice, who had been carrying Gwendolyn, set her down as Hannibal unpacked the picnic.

They ate in relative peace until Gwendolyn started to get restless. "Can we go play _now_?" she asked for what seemed the billionth time.

"Alright, Darling. I'll clean up and you and Mommy can go play, I'll be with you in a few minutes," he assured the girls.

Clarice let Gwen lead her over to the slide. "Can I go on it, Mommy?"

"Be careful," she allowed her to go and watched as her child eagerly climbed up the ladder and slid down the giant molded piece of plastic. Again and again it amazed her how entertaining that piece of plastic truly was to a child. Then again, she could remember going down slides as a child. Climbing up the ladder to face your fate at the top, trusting the slide to support you as you rushed down it, the wind rushing against your face and in those two seconds you felt...

"Reminiscing, _Isela_?" Hannibal came up from behind he and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Not flinching in the least Clarice said, "Yes. I can hardly remember the last time I was on a slide," she told him.

"Do you remember what it felt like?"

She nodded.

"How?"

"Why so curious, _Marco_?" she asked, her eyebrow raised.

"I've never been on one," he told her. "So how does it feel?"

She turned her head to look him in the eye. "Free," she answered. His hand dropped from her shoulder and went into his pocket.

"She's so entergetic," Clarice remarked as her daughter went up the ladder for the fifth time.

"She is," Hannibal agreed.

"I wonder where she gets it from?"

Hannibal thought for a moment. "Sometimes... she almost reminds me of Mischa." This time it was Clarice who put a hand on Hannibal's shoulder. He reached up and held it lightly. And Clarice didn't know why, but it felt right.

Suddenly Gwen came running towards them. "Daddy! Will you teach me how to swing like you said last week?"

"I always keep my promise, Dear; of course." He led her a short ways across the playground to the swings. He set her on one of the swings and sat down on the one next to her and Clarice's mouth nearly dropped out of surprise. She had never expected to see Hannibal Lecter on a swing set as long as she lived. But their he was, sitting next to her- _their_ daughter, teaching her how to swing.

Clarice laughed lightly as Gwen kicked her legs out all over the place at first, causing her to start spinning in circles. Clarice walked over and unspun her before taking both of her daughter's legs in her hands and showing her exactly how to move her legs. Soon she was pumping and swinging hard.

"I'm doing it!" she squealed with delight.

"Very good!" Clarice complimented her.

Soon she was going very high while Clarice remained on her feet and Hannibal remained swinging close to the ground.

"WEEE!" their daughter sqeualed joyously. She held out her arms as if she was flying as she pumped forwards.

"Gwen don't do that!" Clarice warned but it was too late. Her daughter was out of her seat and faster than lightning Hannibal had launched himself from his seat to catch her with the strength never seen in a man his age.

"AHH!!" her scream of pure terror brought everyone's attention to the park as both parents ran catch her. They both caught her and were knocked down by the force.

Hannibal immediately set her on the ground and asked if she felt alright. When she answered she felt fine he pulled her into a fierce hug, rocked her back and forth and Clarice even saw a tear escape his eyes. When he finally let go Clarice took the oppourtunity to pull her daughter into a tight hug and kiss her cheek furiously, she had to make sure she was still there. That Hannibal's insanity hadn't prevented him from saving their daughter. She had to convince herself that the sociopath cared.

* * *

That night Clarice sat in her bathtub contemplating about the events of the day. When she had awoken out of her trance she hadn't expected anything that'd been thrown at her. A daughter, a son on the way, a secret life _married_ to one of the most notorious criminals in the USA oh hell the world. And she couldn't help but begin to question her escape plan. Maybe staying here with Hannibal wouldn't be so bad. He seemed... loving. 

**_What the fuck are you saying Clarice!?_**

_Well... I'm not saying that-_

**_What are you saying? He's insane, Clarice, he may seem so perfect now but some day, something is going to happen and he's going to snap!_**

_But isn't the entire reason he went insane because of his sister being cannibalized? And just today he said having Gwen was like having his Mischa back._

**_And what happens when something happens to her? What if there's an accident? What if there's an accident and it _looks_ like your fault? What happens then?_**

She thought for a moment and memories of graphically told stories from Hannibal's childhood and transformation into a cannibal and murderer, he had called it his rising. _He'll kill me like he killed those Nazis._

**_Exactly. And what'll happen if something happens to Gwen while she's alone with Brant?_**

She thought sadly, _He'll kill my baby._

**_Exactly Clarice. He may not act like a murderer but he is what he is and it may seem like he's changed but he HASN'T. A leapord never changes it's spots, it just hides them beneath the tall grass._**

_So he could snap at any moment, turn from loving father and husband..._

**_To cold blooded murderer._**

"Clarice?" Hannibal knocked on the door. "Are you alright? You've been in there for over an hour."

She snapped out of her trance and felt the cool water around her and shivered, her hands and feet were pruned as she answered, "I'm fine, I'll be out in a bit."

She got out of the tub and dried off before slipping into her warm pajamas. She entered her shared room with Hannibal and he appeared asleep. She soon figured out he wasn't when he asked, "Coming to bed?"

"Hannibal?"

"Hm?"

"Would you mind if Gwen slept in here tonight?"

He opened his eyes and looked at her with the maroon eyes he shared with his daughter. "Of course not; still feeling shaken after today's events?"

She nodded. "There was just a moment there where she let go, and I thought I'd lost her, now I just don't want to let go of her," she answered before walking off in the direction of Gwen's room.

"Mommy?" she asked as Clarice picked her up.

"Sweetie, how would you like to sleep in Mommy and Daddy's bed?"

She nodded against her mother's shoulder. "Ok then." She carried her back into her room and set her in between Hannibal and herself and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

Soon they were all asleep.

* * *

When Clarice woke up she found she was very comfortable. She flitted her eyes around to find that Gwen was fast asleep, her head resting on her mother's chest and her tiny fingers were twirling her mother's hair. Clarice shifted herself and felt someone sigh on her head. She looked up and saw that her head was rested on Hannibal's chest. The little voice in her head telling her to get herself away from that man was promptly told to go screw itself.

* * *

Three days later, after the decoration of Brant's room Hannibal came home from his work looking rather miffed. 

"What's wrong, Hannibal?" Clarice asked, stopping her play with Gwen.

"Oh nothing for you to worry about, Clarice. Why don't you take Gwen upstairs, she needs to practice her piano for the party on Saturday."

Clarice eyed him suspiciously but nevertheless agreed to take her daughter upstairs and listen to her practice for her preformance.

She started playing and Clarice remarked the her daughter certainly had Hannibal's gift for the piano.

Things didn't make sense anymore. Less than a week ago she had been hell bent on escaping. Now she was considering staying. But that little voice in her head was still nagging her to get out and take Gwen with her. Get to the nearest police station and turn Hannibal in. But then he would come after her if he wasn't incarcerated. He would kill her. Take Gwen, if Brant was born he would take him too. Her children would be raised by a psychopath.

There was a crash from downstairs. Gwen stopped playing the piano and Clarice stood from her seat. "Stay here, Darling," she commanded her daughter before going to check out the source of the noise.

"Hannibal?" she yelled around the corner to find him closing the door to the basement. "Hannibal what was that?" she asked.

"Oh nothing Dear, just a rat," he told her. "I'm going to go buy some traps now. Keep Gwen and yourself away from the basement, it could have something," he warned her before locking the basement door and leaving to buy the traps.

Clarice ran back upstairs and told her daughter to keep practicing her piano, she had to do something downstairs and not to come down, there may a rat loose.

But she knew that Hannibal was lying about the rat, first of all that crash was too loud for a rat and Hannibal couldn't have jumped on it because then his clothes would be dirty. And then second of all, their basement was habitable for rats or other vermin. So she knew that something must've happened. And why would he lock the door? Surely a rat could squeeze under the door if it wanted to? All these reasons and more made Clarice go to the key cupboard and take down the spare basement key and unlock the adventure within.

She turned on the lights as she went down the stairs and was shocked to find the bound, unconscious form of an African-American female. The face of the woman was facing Clarice's and she recognized it immediately. It was Ardelia Mapp. She wanted to run to Ardelia, wake her and take both her friend and daughter away from this place. But alas, Clarice and Hannibal were only in posession of one car, and she knew not when he would be back and also that waking Ardelia would rouse suspicion from Hannibal. So quiet as a churchmouse she crept back up the stairs, turned the lights off, locked the door and returned the key to the cupboard and hoped against hope that Ardelia was still alive by nightfall.

* * *

That night Clarice sat in her bathrub once again contemplating her next move. She had just been getting used to the idea of staying when Ardelia entered and the game changed. Clarice knew that if she stayed Hannibal would never harm her or her daughter unless unforseeable cirumstances triggered him to do so. But she knew he would harm Ardelia, and then what? He could let her off with a warning; he couldn't let her go so the only left to do would to... kill her. And after that? Would he eat Ardelia? Would he feed Clarice her best friend and his daughter his enemy? 

She thought about perhaps helping Ardelia to escape and staying behind, but she also knew that Hannibal would know that Clarice had played a third hand in a poker game meant for two. Helping Ardelia escape without escaping herself would put Clarice in hot water. Escaping at all in any form would put Clarice in hot water. But letting Ardelia die would only kill her as well. There was no way out for Clarice.

* * *

That night Clarice woke up to find it was past midnight, Hannibal was in bed beside her. His breathing was steady and relaxed so she assumed he was asleep as a plan popped into her head and she slipped out of bed. She put her slippers on and crept downstairs. Quietly she tested the lock on the basement door, locked, just as she had expected. She got the key out and stuck it in the hole when a thought struck her; what if Hannibal got out of bed and came downstairs while she was trying to talk to Ardelia? What if he saw the light was on? Fishing around in the dark quiet as she could she procured a flashlight and turned it on as she closed the basement door behind her. 

She scanned the basement floor until she found Ardelia lying on the floor, still bound and gagged as she had been earlier. Clarice tiptoed over to her and reached to remove the gag but thought better of it. Ardelia might make a ruckus upon seeing Clarice. Gently she shined the light in her face and shook the girl awake. And she was right, Ardelia's scream of shock at seeing Clarice would've woken Hannibal if she had not been gagged.

"Ardelia, I'm going to remove your gag but you have to promise to remain quiet, Hannibal's upstairs and he could wake up at any moment," she warned her and Ardelia gave her a look of confusion when she realized she wasn't speaking English. She switched over and repeated herself; Ardelia nodded before Clarice removed the gag.

"Could you unbind me too?" she asked immediately.

"I can't do that," she informed the girl. When Ardelia got that 'why the fuck not?' look on her face Clarice responded, "If I don't rebind you the exact way Hannibal did he'll know I helped you."

"So you're not going to help me escape? You're gonna let that monster kill me?" Clarice was suddenly reminded of the horrible memory of Catherine down in Buffalo Bill's dungeon.

"Did he say that? Did he actually say he was going to kill you?" Clarice questioned her.

"He said he'd get rid of me when he had time, after Saturday or something," Ardelia replied morosely.

"Alright then. Listen to me Ardelia, I'm going to try and get you out of here but you've got to cooperate if you want to get out of here alive," she informed her.

Ardelia looked at her sternly before replying, "What did you have in mind?"

Clarice smiled. "On Saturday, Hannibal is hosting a party, here to announce something to all his friends or neighbors or whatever." She couldn't bring herself to tell Ardelia exactly what he was announcing. "During the part I'm going to have a knife somewhere on me and when Hannibal goes off to talk to someone I'm going to make an excuse to seperate myself from him. Once I do that I'm going to get down here quickly as I can and cut you loose; now don't be surprised when I come down here I'm going to have someone else with me."

"Another on of his captives?"

"Not exactly," Clarice responded, not caring to go into detail. "Anyways, I'm going to cut you loose, and if I'm right." She began shining the flashlight at the walls. "There should be a window just big enough for us to get through." She found it. "Aha! There. Now I'm going to send you and the other person through first; now I'm assuming you know what Hannibal's car looks like right?" Ardelia nodded explaining that she had seen it just before he knocked her out. "Alright, I'm going to give you the keys to the car and you two are going to run to it without waiting for me."

"Why?" Ardelia butted in,

"Because if he finds me crawling out of the basement window it's going to look a lot worse than it would you or the other person," she explained. "After you get in the car bring it around near the window, I'll be waiting outside. If I'm not, DON'T wait for me."

"Clarice you know I can't do that."

"But you have to! Look I can take care of Hannibal but you need to take care of my daughter!" Clarice covered her mouth when she realized what she had let slip.

Then Ardelia surprised her. She thought for sure that Ardelia would let out a cry at this news but instead found that her old friend was speechless. that is, until she asked, "With whom?"

Clarice looked at her hard. "Who do you think, Ardelia?" she asked quietly.

"You procreated with Hannibal the cannibal Lecter? You SLEPT with Hannibal Lecter?" she asked, astonished.

She thought hard for a moment. "I don't think so, I can't remember anything of that nature happening."

"Maybe you were drugged."

"I was, and hypnotized," she almost laughed.

"So how do you know you weren't raped?" Ardelia asked as if it were obvious.

"Ardelia, Hannibal may be a murderer, a cannibal, and one of the most dangerous criminals the world has ever seen, but he's no rapist," she informed her friend.

"How do you know?"

"Do you remember all those years ago when I was helping Jack hunt down Buffalo Bill?" Ardelia nodded. "Do you remember asking me if I thought he would come after me?"

"You said he would think it rude."

"Exactly. It's the same with this, he would find raping me rude. And he kills the rude, free range rude he once called them."

"So he used some other method, like In-vitro?"

"Probably." There was a long awkward pause. "So tell me, Ardelia, what's happened in my absence?"

"Well after you went missing the FBI looked for you for about six months as a kidnapped victim, then as a possible fugitive."

"What?!"

"They thought if you had wanted to escape you would've tried already, and they would've found your body... missing a few organs probably. We thought we found you when a body was found about your height and weight missing some body parts used in cooking, but DNA wasn't a match. Then they stopped looking for a while, until I reported seeing you in Scotland."

"How did you find us anyways?"

"Barney."

"Seriously? I never thought Barney would've ratted Hannibal out like that."

"He didn't want to, but I sort of _persuaded_ him." She smirked.

"I see," she almost laughed again. "And after that?"

"We looked for another year but turned up no results and it was called off... So, what's your daughter like?"

Clarice smiled a little. "She's great, she's just like me when I was a child... except she can play piano and probably speaks a few more languages than Italian."

"How old is she?"

"About four, I'm not exactly sure. When Hannibal drugged me I wasn't completely compliant, so he hypnotized me. The trigger was a note, Gwen- my daughter's name, she played it a few days ago and I woke up from my trance. Ever since then I've just been trying to figure out what to do. At first I couldn't wait to escape but then... but then we all went to the park, Gwen was learning how to swing and she went too high, she flew off and would've died if Hannibal hadn't caught her. Then he hugged her and started crying."

"So?"

"So I'd never seen him cry before, I never knew he was capable of love. I knew he was capable of infatuation, a synthetic of love but he loves his daughter... and suddenly I couldn't take her away from him. But I couldn't take myself away from her either.

"But then you entered the equation. I could've stayed her with Hannibal and Gwen, and I know he would never have killed us but then you came along."

"What's so special about me?"

"Ardelia you were my best friend for years and years on end without fail, but you're also the third most capable person to bring Hannibal in, and he knows that. The minute I found out he had captured you, I knew what he was planning to do. You've always been there for me, I couldn't live with myself after letting you down like that."

The rare tear was shining in Ardelia's eyes and Clarice hugged her.

"The sun's coming up," she warned. "I need to be getting back; remember the plan!" she told her friend before stuffing the gag back in her mouth and leaving her friend for Hannibal who was still in bed. Deciding it would be best to look like she had just come from the bathroom if he woke up upon her reentry, she tip toed into the bathroom and shut the door. Good thing too, for moments later, Hannibal woke up.

* * *

The night of the party finally came and Clarice was so nervous her nails had been chewed to bits, the previous night she had snuck down to the kitchen and stolen a knife and tape which she stashed under her bed; when Hannibal left her to finish getting dressed she taped the knife to the inside of her thigh. The dress was perfect for her escape also, it was more conservative than Hannibal's usual tastes for party dresses, but she was pregnant afterall. 

It was a dark green olive color, it covered all of her chest and back but left her arms bear. It was floor length but also had a long slit up the side which reached midthigh, meaning if she had to she could whip it out at a moments notice, the only thing she was worried about was the fact that if her stride became too long or she walked up steps it could easily show. After five minutes of hard decision making she hastily moved it to the other thigh and accidently wrapped it too tight. As she went to fix it Hannibal knocked on the door and her time was up. It was party time.

For nearly an hour they mingled with guests, Clarice's cheeks ached from smiling so much at people she hardly knew, But one true smile came as she finally recognized what the piece was that Gwen was playing, she never would have expected it, she never would've expected Hannibal to tell his daughter to play the piano accompany to (You're) Having My Baby. Soon after that Hannibal made the announcement to the room.

"I am happy to announce that Isela is three months pregnant with our second child," he announced, loud applause came from below.

After fifteen minutes of making rounds with the guests who were now congratulating them they passed by their doctor, who said he was glad the last In-Vitro was a success and although she didn't show it inside Clarice was breathing a sigh of relief. But the pain of the knife pressing into her legs was enough to keep her face straight. When she was seperated from Hannibal for a moment she ordered Gwen to go down to the basement, and not to tell anyone she was going there. She also informed her that there was someone down there tied up and not to be alarmed by her. She obeyed and fifteen minutes later Clarice wondered aloud where Gwen was and stated she would go looking for her and be back as soon as possible. He let her go without apparent suspicion.

"Mommy who is this?" she asked. "She doesn't speak Italian!"

"I know she doesn't, Honey, this is an old friend. She's from America, we're going on a little trip with her," she explained as she freed Ardelia. Troubling though, she felt something sticky on her legs, but figured the blade had simply cut her from being wrapped so tight.

"Why?"

Clarice thought for a moment. "We're playing a game, Darling, stay away from Daddy." And as much as it broke her heart to say it, "if you see your father, run. Do you know where the police station is?"

Gwen nodded.

"Well if you should get seperated from Ardelia." She pointed to her friend. "I want you to run there, say 'Hannibal Lecter's after me, don't let him get me,' and hide with the police officer." She ordered her daughter. "If Ardelia gets caught by Daddy, then she has lost and you need to go on without her. Do not wait for me, I'll catch up with you eventually. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mommy," she answered, sounding somewhat frightened.

"What're you saying?" Ardelia asked in English.

"We're playing a game, keep away from Hannibal." And she explained the rules to Ardelia with one important difference. If Gwen got caught and Clarice was nowhere insight, Ardelia was to fight for her tooth and nail. She agreed and the two climbed out the window and Clarice watched them dissappear towards the garage. When she saw headlights come on in the distance the reality hit her, there was no going back now. And she climbed out of the window with the kinfe in her teeth.

"Lovely day for an adventure, don't you think so Clarice?" a sharp voice from behind the nearest shrubbery said.

She turned. "It is, isn't it?"

"What're you doing?"

She thought fast. "I was looking for Gwen in the basement, when I couldn't find her I thought maybe she had gone outside."

"So you went looking for her?"

"Yes."

"With a knife in your mouth?"

_Damn. _He walked towards her and pushed her aside to peer into the basement to see his fugitive was missing. "Where did they go, Clarice?" He grabbed her roughly by the same wrist he had threatened to cut off so many years ago.

She stayed silent. She would not give him this key either, and this time she was the one with the weapon, and put it too his throat.

Clarice almost swore as the car came around the bend and Ardelia made to get out and fight. "Ardelia stay in the car! Remember what I told you to do at all costs!" she ordered. Just then Hannibal revealed a gun and pointed it at the car where Ardelia was sitting.

"Hannibal don't."

"Why not? I was planning to do it anyways, besides, I can shoot this faster than you can stab that. I just want my child back, Clarice, I just want my child." He began to walk towards the car. "And you of course."

"She's my child too, Hannibal." She kept on him with the knife pressed to his neck.

"Foolish Clarice, you do not know that I value my child over my life?" he tutted.

An idea struck her, a horrible, grotesque and yet brilliant idea came to her, and she hoped Gwen was not watching. "I know," she said before taking the knife off Hannibal and put it on herself, her stomach to be exact. "One false move, Hannibal, and I plunge this dagger into myself, into Brant," she warned, keeping back tears best she could.

His psychotic laugh was sad as he said. "Clarice, did you know that 'Brant' means 'sword'. So technically, the sword is already in your stomach," he laughed before he fell to his knees. Defeaten. The sight made her stomach turn for the worse and her cut felt like it was bleeding more profusely as she ran to Hannibal's car and ordered Ardelia to drive.

"Mommy, can I get up now?"

"No, Honey. Daddy still wants to win the game, but he can't win it if he doesn't get you. So the best thing would be to stay out of his sight, alright? Just a few minutes anyways," she told her daughter, fearing that Hannibal may still be after them.

"Alright," she answered innocently, no clue as to what was going on.

While in the front seat Clarice felt the same thing, she felt like her stomach was exploding and the cut from the knife must've been close to her arterie because she could feel the blood trickling and herself growing faint as her eyes slipped in and out of focus as she made her way up the police steps. But she fought past it. She could tell them she needed a hospital after her daughter and friend were safe and someone knew that Hannibal Lecter was less than two miles down the road.

Soon as she was inside all attention was drawn to them, the party of three, a little girl dressed in a party dress, a woman bleeding from the hips down, and another woman dressed in casual clothes with ligature marks around her wrists and ankles.

"Signora, may I help you?" an officer rushed over and asked.

Clarice was leaning on her daughter and her eyes were rolling as she said, "Hannibal Lecter." And fell over in a dead faint with her finger pointing in the direction of his home.

"Mama!" Gwen screamed and collapsed next her mother. "Wake up! Wake up!" She shook her mother as hard as she could. An ambulance was called and the Italian officers tried to communicate with Ardelia what had happened. Eventually they got one of their secretaries who spoke English in there and she was able to tell them the exact whereabouts of Hannibal. Clarice was loaded into an ambulance and her daughter and Ardelia went with her.

* * *

The next morning Clarice woke up to a nervous wreck of Ardelia holding a sleeping Gwendolyn. "Oh Clarice! Thank God you're alive!" she exclaimed. Gwendolyn was quick to wake up and repeat the sentiments in Italian before crawling into bed with her mother. 

"What happened?" she asked Ardelia.

"That knife you strapped to your thigh-"

"I knew it, I wrapped it too tight and cut myself didn't I?"

"No. Clarice, I saw you threatening Hannibal that you were going to kill Brant last night, you didn't did you?"

"No! Of course not! It was a bluff!"

"But how did you know he would take it?"

... "He couldn't afford not too. What happened?" she asked once again.

"Clarice... there's no easy way to say this but... you started to miscarry."

Her jaw dropped slack as Gwen curled her sixth finger around her mother's hair. "Did I...? Is Brant...?" She looked at Ardelia expectantly as tears slipped down her face.

"No, Clarice! Brant's still alive. Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?"

"I didn't think you could handle it, with everything else going on."

Ardelia merely rolled her eyes and nodded.

"What happened with Hannibal? Was he caught_?" Please tell me he was caught_.

"Yes. He came peacefully too from what the officer told me. He was sitting on his front step, waiting."

"That doesn't seem like him," Clarice commented.

"I think it fits though."

"You do?"

"Yeah, you see while you were missing we didn't find any bodies that looked like they'd been his victims. So we thought maybe he stopped because of you."

Clarice flashed back to that day in the park and what Hannibal told her. "He said having Gwen was like having his Mischa back."

"Who's Mischa?"

"Hannibal's sister. She was cannabalized by Nazis during WWII. He once told me," she vaguely began to remember, "that when he lost his sister he went into a sort of depression and didn't say a word for years, I think."

"The police officer said that Lecter didn't say anything," Ardelia added. "So... it's over?"

Clarice shook her head woefully. "No, I'm afraid it's just begun. All over again." Tears slipped down her face as she held her daughter closer and realized just what she had done.

* * *

Epilogue:

Clarice was released from the hospital a week later after they had determined that she and the baby would be alright. Soon after she and Ardelia returned to the US, taking Clarice's daughter with them they started teaching her English. It was still very poor by the time they reached the border but it would do for the time being.

But upon her return she was immediately sequestered and put under psychoanalyis and therapy to try and bring out memories suppressed by the drugs and hypnosis that Hannibal had her under. It took them months to figure out what she had been telling them all along, there was maybe a week when she wasn't under any spell.

After all that the FBI sent a letter to her home saying that she would not be reinstated as an agent and she scoffed at the thought of her actually wanting to be reinstated to that institution.

Sooner rather than later Hannibal's case was put before a court. They were considering the death penalty and Clarice was supposed to testify.

"Clarice Starling, do you agree that what Hannibal Lecter did to you was wrong?" The lawyer asked.

"Yes," she responded.

"And do you agree that he should be given the death penalty?"

She thought for a moment, she knew what she was supposed to say but she couldn't. "No."

Everyone gasped and the lawyer looked at her sharply. "Ms. Starling, this man has killed more than a dozen people, he kidnapped you, drugged you and impregnated you twice. He's threatened not only your life but the lives of others, and you're saying he does not deserved the death penalty?"

"Yes that's correct."

"Why not?"

She took a deep breath and a moment to look at Hannibal who was chained to his desk. "There are worse things than death," she responded and looked at him again and knew he understood her meaning. She knew that he would rather die than live without his children. And when she stood to leave the stand he saw her pregnant belly she swore she saw his eyes shine. And for a moment her face softened and she fled the courtroom for the sanctity of the bathroom where she could breakdown.

Hannibal was never sentenced to death.

Months later when Brant was born, Clarcie was no longer Clarice but Emily. Ardelia was no longer Ardelia but Elizabeth. And Gwen was no longer Gwen but Beatrice. They had all been placed in the witness protection program and relocated to Oregon where Ardelia and Clarice worked at jobs that were not as well paying as the ones at the Bureau but they paid the bills.

Gwen and Brant grew up, both of them had six fingers on their left hands throughout their entire lives. Gwen grew up happily, forgetting about her father as she aced tests, got into a top college and became a doctor, her father's brains and her mother's personality. But Brant worried her for a while. He too took after his father, he was extremly smart but unlike Gwen he was more artistic. While in highschool he wrote a play, his literature teacher saw it and showed it to the arts board. They made him an offer and the school preformed it. It was later published and then went onto Broadway several years later. His paintings sold and he made a tidy living.

Yes, her children had become succesful, she had restored her friendship with Ardelia. And she had almost managed to forget for one second that the father of her children, was Hannibal Lecter. But she couldn't forget, who could? Especially after the news of his impending death started to spread. It hit her like a bomb going off in her face.

So one day she sat down and wrote a letter.

_Dear Hannibal,_

_You once asked me if given the chance would I kill you? And responded no, just your freedom. I've kept my promise Hannibal. And still it confunds me why you chose to deny me mine. But still, I guess now we're even aren't we?_

_I'm writing this to you because I think you deserve to know what became of your children before you die. _

_Gwen grew up forgetting who you were, you are now a vague memory in her mind and I intend to keep it that way. Brant only knows you from stories he's been told by his sister. I don't remember much of our time "together" but I do remember you telling me about Mischa, and Gwen is exactly like her. But with your mind. She graduated valedictorian of her high school and went on to Harvard Medical School where she again graduated valedictorian. She became a brain surgeon. The brain really fascinates her._

_While Brant, Brant worried me for a while. He's just as smart as his sister but has much more emotion. There was a period where I thought he'd kill himself but he pulled through. He got your artistic penchant and talent. He's written many stories, gotten many of them published. The critics hate to love him. In highschool he wrote a play that went onto Broadway after a few years of circulation. He paints a lot. But there's something that worries me about one of his paintings. I've enclosed a picture of it and you'll see why. It's a painting of WWII. That alone didn't worry me but then I looked at the formations of smoke. He said it was an accident, he said he didn't even know who the people were but I don't believe him. That's another thing he got from you Hannibal, the ability to lie and twist words around._

_But overall I just wanted to tell you that your children are good people. Your daughter saves lives and your son expresses them._

_Clarice._

_P.S. There was something else I wanted to say. When I awoke from that trance you had me in my first thoughts were escape. Then you saved Gwen, and I questioned that. But you had to enter Ardelia into the equation didn't you? Did you think I wouldn't find out? Or were you just so eager to believe that I hadn't heard that note? Or better yet, that I actually wanted to stay with you of my own will. Well I did. But you messed that up, Hannibal. I thought maybe Gwen had softened you and you were no longer capable being what you were once convicted of; then I found Ardelia bound and gagged in the basement and I knew I was wrong. How could you have let me be wrong? I couldn't know she was down there awaiting her death, and done nothing. I couldn't have lived with myself and you know that. I thought about getting her out without taking myself and Gwen from you, but after thinking about it, knowing you were still capable of this. I couldn't. You messed up something beautiful that could've been Hannibal. Like everyone else, you're your own worse enemy. _

_And yet no matter how much I hate you for doing what you did, I think a part of me did love you... you just never gave it a chance. And I just wanted you to know that a part of me has always felt bad for running away, and turning you in. And I'm sorry._

_Also, the FBI has been bugging me for years on what I learned about you, from you. But I didn't tell them. Some mysteries are better left unsolved.

* * *

Inside his cell at his most recent asylum, Hannibal Lecter was reading this letter and holding back tears, there were cameras in the room. He took the photo-copy of the painting Clarice had mentioned and unfolded it. When unfolded it covered his table which was bolted to the floor; and inside the folded photo-copied painting was a 4x6 inch photograph of an older woman who was clearly Clarice, standing with two younger people, a woman and a man, both with Hannibal's eyes and sixth finger. But overall, Brant looked the most like him, while Gwen looked like a mix between Mischa and her mother. And both looked happy._

But back to the painting.

His breath caught in his old throat. The scene was one all too familiar to Hannibal. It was a winter scene, snow covered the ground and blood covered the snow. There was a hunting lodge, half destroyed by bombs. The bombs had set off fires which in turn created smoke which floated up into the skies. In the cloud formations were two people known very well to Hannibal. One was himself, the other, his little sister. How his son knew their faces, especially Mischa's, or the scene of the hunting lodge was unknownst to him.

And as he felt his heart ache in the old age, and the happiness that while he may be physically gone from his children, he was still remembered, he laid down on his bed, the photo of his children in his right hand, he relaxed, still trying to figure out that last little mystery of life that his son and Clarice had presented to him he decided on his answer.

Some mysteries are better left unsolved.

* * *

A/N: Please review!


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